


A Car Trip and a Conversation

by Luthien



Series: Luthien Does Writer's Month 2019 [6]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Australia, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Australia, F/M, holiday romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 06:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20149108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien
Summary: Jaime and Brienne finally arrive in Byron Bay!Part 4 of this coffee-themed Australian mini-universe. Continues on from whereA Coffee and a Kissleft off.





	A Car Trip and a Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to slipsthrufingers for the beta!
> 
> Fill for Writer's Month 2019 Day 6 - kids.
> 
> And yes, I know that I said yesterday that today's prompt wouldn't fit this universe, but I found a way!
> 
> I keep meaning to thank Telanu for helping me work out what car Jaime should drive. She knows a lot more about cars than I do, so I told her what I wanted for him, and she suggested [this](https://www.astonmartin.com/en-us/models/dbs-superleggera). So, that's the car that Jaime and Brienne have been driving north in.

It took Brienne about five minutes to realise that she was in a state of mild shock. She wasn't sure whether she was more shocked that Jaime had kissed her hand and then invited her to have lunch with him, or that she had accepted.

It was madness. She'd only just met this man. She knew that getting into a car with an almost complete stranger was asking for trouble—she'd seen plenty of those true crime shows. She'd justified the decision to herself by pointing out that Shae, and now also Tyrion, knew that she'd gone off with Jaime. Though yes, Tyrion was Jaime's brother, so he'd probably be willing to help cover up any crimes that Jaime might commit, but…

Brienne took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. He had kissed her. The warm press of his lips against her skin had felt like a small electric shock that raced from that spot right through her and made every cell in her body shiver with awareness. _But_ it had only been a kiss to her hand, and Jaime himself had said that it didn't have to mean anything—and that was just a polite way of saying that it _didn't_ mean anything, right?

But what was the lunch invitation all about? He hadn't had to do that. Probably he was just hungry and didn't feel like eating alone.

But he'd kissed her, even if it was just on her hand. If she'd been any other woman, Brienne wouldn't have hesitated to identify both the kiss and the invitation as signs of definite interest. And maybe if Jaime had been any other man, she still would have, somewhat hesitantly, decided to believe that there might be some interest there, however unlikely it seemed.

But she _wasn't_ any other woman. She was Brienne Tarth, with everything that that meant, and Jaime was… Jaime. A man so effortlessly good-looking that she'd initially mistaken him for a Hemsworth, who'd then shown that he was nice, and funny and _kind_. A man like that shouldn't exist at all, much less deign to notice that a woman like Brienne existed in the same world that he did. Not that they were going to exist in the same world for long. There was no way their paths ever should have crossed in the first place, and once they'd arrived in Byron Bay and had something to eat, they would part ways forever and things would go back to the way they were before. She would do well not to forget that. 

She glanced over at Jaime. He hadn't said anything more since they'd got back onto the highway after their conversation about lunch. He'd been keeping his attention on the road, but he must have seen out of the corner of his eye that she'd turned her head to face him, because he looked over at her with a smile. It wasn't his usual small, amused smile, but something a little warmer, and yet a little more hesitant, too.

Was he regretting inviting her to lunch? She could still suggest that he drop her off at a budget hotel, if it wasn't too much trouble, and he could be on his way. But it would still be a while before they arrived in Byron Bay. They couldn't just drive in silence the whole way. Brienne would have to try to make small talk. She wasn't _good_ at that sort of thing—she was all too painfully aware of her inadequacies in that area—but she would try.

"Is everything all right with Shae?" she blurted out, and then wished she could cut out her tongue. Why had she asked that, of all things? It wasn't any of her business. 

Jaime's expression turned serious then, and Brienne winced inwardly, and possibly outwardly, too, because Jaime shook his head and said, "No, it's all right. It's not a secret. Shae's pregnant. I thought you'd probably worked it out."

A little bit of tension let go inside Brienne. "And Tyrion worries about her, so he asked you to look after things while he was away?"

"I didn't mind. It meant that I was there to meet you!" Jaime said, and the familiar, amused smile touched his lips for a moment. 

Yes, it was a good joke, the two of them meeting at all. One day, Brienne would be able to laugh about it, too.

"But Tyrion isn't worrying needlessly," Jaime continued. "Shae had a miscarriage a little while back, and she's under strict orders from the doctor to take things very easily this time. She's not too happy about that." Jaime's smile this time was both exasperated and fond. "But she really wants to have kids. They both do, and so she's trying her best to rest up. She gets bored, though, and then coffee art starts happening."

"She does fantastic work. The best I've seen," Brienne said, grateful that the conversation was moving in a safer direction.

"She used to be an artist. A real one. Went to art school and everything, and then worked as a commercial artist for a while. But then… life happened, and she stopped doing anything artistic, even just for herself."

Brienne nodded. "As life does to us all," she said. There was a story there. One that even she knew better than to ask about. "It's good that the coffee shop is giving her a reason to be creative again."

"It keeps her from going mad while she waits for the baby to arrive—her words, not mine. She still has quite a few months ahead of her, so we'll see if coffee art turns out to be enough."

"I'm sure they'll both make great parents," Brienne said, because it was the sort of thing people said in a conversation like this. And yet, she realised that she could very easily picture Tyrion and Shae in the future, making pretentious coffee and amazing coffee art together, happily bickering and sharing their lives as they cared for their children. The thought left a little ache deep down in Brienne, somewhere near her heart. "And you'll be an uncle," she added, and wished she hadn't, as the image of Jaime playing with the children joined the picture of Tyrion and Shae in her mind.

"I will," Jaime said. He was silent a moment, just long enough for Brienne to pick up on it. His shoulders were tense and his fingers were clenched around the steering wheel. And yet his tone was light when at last he said, "I'm already an uncle, actually. We have a sister, Tyrion and I. Her name's Cersei. She's my twin. She has three children, two boys, plus a girl in the middle, but of course they're not Lannisters. My father will be pleased about the new baby, even though he and Tyrion… don't get on. It will be someone to carry on the family name at last."

Brienne wished she hadn't mentioned that Jaime would soon be an uncle, but it was just the sort of thing people pointed out when there was a new baby on the way in a family, as though it were some amazing fact that hadn't occurred to anyone before. There was something about the extremely careful way in which Jaime talked about the members of his family—except for Tyrion and Shae—that made it sound as if even just by mentioning them he was being forced to navigate shark-filled waters.

"So you don't have any children of your own," she said, trying to make the almost-question sound innocuous.

Jaime shook his head. "I've never been married. Never met the right person, I guess. I think my father's given up on the idea of getting any grandchildren from me. What about you?" he added, sounding like it was almost an afterthought.

Brienne shrugged. "The same as you. No children, never been married, never met the right person."

Jaime nodded, and then they lapsed into silence. "We're nearly there," he said after a while, as he turned off the highway and onto a much narrower local road that took them east. "There's a restaurant with quite a good seafood menu at the place where I'm staying. If that suits, we can stop in at my room and freshen up before we get a table."

'That sounds fine,' was what Brienne wanted to say, but all that escaped her lips was a little gasp with a slightly strangled, "Fine!" buried in the middle of it somewhere.

Only a few minutes later, they reached the coast, and Byron Bay. Jaime drove through the centre of the town, and Brienne got a good look at the iconic lighthouse perched high on the headland before they reached a roundabout and headed south. They didn't go very far, though. The road veered south and east, taking them closer and closer towards the beach, until the road was hugging the coast. Jaime slowed, and turned in through the gates of some sort of... complex of large, modern white buildings fronted with lots of tinted glass facing the beach, and rainforest on the other three sides. He drove around to the side of what seemed to be the main building and down into an underground carpark.

Once the car came to a stop, Brienne wasted no time in getting out. She winced a bit as she did so. She was definitely going to have a bruise on her backside from her tumble this morning, and the skin on her face and back that had taken the brunt of the exposure to the sun were becoming sensitive and sore.

"Everything okay?" Jaime asked, coming to stand beside her.

"Oh, fine, fine," Brienne said. "Never better."

Jaime eyed her. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked. "You look… distracted or something."

"What is this place?"

Jaime shrugged. "Just a resort. I usually stay here when I come to Byron. It's private, the food's good and the beds are comfortable."

"Oh," Brienne said. She wondered how often he'd stayed here alone. Probably not very often.

"Come on," he said, and led the way over to the lift. It was operated by a key card, which Jaime waved in front of the sensor, and then the lift was moving, fast and smooth and almost silent, taking them up to the top floor.

Jaime's idea of 'a room' turned out to be a vast, luxurious suite with one whole side of the main living area made up of a pair of giant windows looking out over the water. But Brienne didn't stop to admire the view. She had a much more urgent need.

"The bathroom?" she asked, and Jaime pointed to one of the doors off to one side. Brienne nodded her thanks, and tried not to make her haste too obvious. When at last she gained the bathroom, she shut the door behind her and sprinted the last few steps to the toilet. She'd had a large glass of water, a mug of tea and a large takeaway coffee all in the space of… however long it was. Not very long, anyway, and now she was feeling the full effects of that.

She sagged with… well, relief, once she'd relieved herself, leaning her head against the painted tiles on the wall. What was she doing here? It was crazy. Brienne wasn't a person who rode in an Aston Martin with a gorgeous, nice, wealthy man who smiled at her, and then stopped in at a resort with a multi-million dollar ocean view just to have a bite to eat. She should… She should...

_Which would you regret more once you're home again?_ asked a little voice inside her head. _Having lunch with him, or **not** having lunch with him?_

Brienne sighed. There was only one answer to a question like that.

She got up, used the toilet paper, flushed the toilet, went to wash her hands in one of the twin probably-marble-or-something basins, and _froze_. A long mirror ran the length of the wall. It was the first time Brienne had seen her own reflection since she'd left the cheap hotel she and Hyle had stayed at last night. 

She looked _ghastly_. Her face was a shade somewhere between pink and red, and her nose was something nearer puce. Her hair was in need of a good brush, and looked even more dry and brittle than usual, probably thanks to all the salt in the air along the coast. The men's shirt she was wearing was just about passable, but the linen trousers she'd picked up at the charity shop in Casterly Rock were impossibly creased. She wore no make-up—which was not unusual, at least while she was on holiday, but had turned into a liability now that her holiday was somehow no longer her own—and her nails were short and unpainted.

There was no way on earth that Brienne could sit down to lunch in a fancy restaurant looking like this. There was only one thing she _could_ do. She stared miserably at her reflection, which stared miserably back at her, and then she washed and dried her hands. That done, she pulled herself up to her full height, and went out to face Jaime.

He was standing by the window, looking out over the water. "Better?" he asked, as she came to join him.

"Much," Brienne said, "but-" 

She didn't get any further. Jaime turned to face her so quickly that she completely forgot what her next word was going to be. "No buts," he said. "You promised to come to lunch with me and I'm going to hold you to that promise."

"Can't a girl change her mind?" Brienne asked. 

"No. At least I don't want you to. Please don't."

Brienne frowned. "Jaime, _look at me_. You don't want to be seen in some expensive restaurant with a woman who looks like this."

"You look fine to me," Jaime said. "Really," he added as she made a snort of disbelief.

"You're obviously not a woman," Brienne said.

Jaime's lips quirked into a little smile. "I'm glad you noticed."

"What do you mean?" Brienne asked. "Of course I noticed. I'm not blind."

"So, have lunch with me."

"I _can't_. Haven't you been listening-"

Jaime stepped closer and laid a finger against her lips. "I've listened. I've heard you. You don't want to go to lunch in a restaurant. Fine, we won't. We'll get fish and chips and eat them on the beach or something. How does that sound?"

Brienne let out a shaky breath. "Better," she admitted. He was standing so close. She could see the little gold flecks in the depths of his green eyes, the light olive skin that only grew more beautiful with exposure to the sun, the imperfect line of his nose that somehow only served to make his features more attractive still, the fine laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth… Oh, his mouth.

Jaime swallowed and exhaled. She could feel his warm breath against her overheated cheek. "Brienne, I would very much like to kiss you. Is that a problem?" he asked hoarsely.

There were lots of ways Brienne could have answered that question, if she'd stopped to think of any. If she'd been _able_ to think of any.

But only one answer came to mind, so she really had no choice but to take his face in her hands, bridge the gap between them and kiss Jaime Lannister hard on the lips.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued with tomorrow's prompt: sports
> 
> The story continues in [Tandem Surfing and Other Sports For Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167378).


End file.
